I still get upset when ever I think about the first few months of my life in Hungary. I still flinch when I remember trying to have conversations with my host father, mostly awkward and usually ending in him offending me in some way. I still have episodes, though not often now, of where I feel as if I’m being crushed, when I have no self-esteem. I will admit that I have made some mistakes while with my last hosts and they were going through a difficult time, but I think that’s why it took me so long to realize how miserable I really was.
I can’t help but compare my current host family to my old one and how different the atmospheres are. My host mom tells me every week that she is glad she has a daughter now. I can talk about politics and Hungarian history with my host dad and have a great time. My host brother and I get along, and he helps me when I need it. My host parents defend me when my counselor brings up things my last family complained about.
Even though I’ve made mistakes with them, I feel that they trust me and they know I trust them. When ever I slipped up or forgot to do something, my last family would shut me out. They wouldn’t tell me what exactly I did wrong even when I asked them about it; they just acted like I should know. Sometimes my host father would say things about the United States or about me that I found offensive. At one point, and I think I mentioned this in one of my past articles, I told my host father and explained how certain things he said hurts my feelings. He apologized and said that wasn’t his intention, and all was good for about two weeks. Then the jokes came back. Honestly I could rant on about this for hours, but it gets depressing thinking about it.